


L Light in the Dark

by FreshPrinceofDalaam



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshPrinceofDalaam/pseuds/FreshPrinceofDalaam
Summary: "L finally acts on the tension that he and Light have felt since they had met"
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 145





	L Light in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> My housemate wrote this and wanted me to post it here to see what people's opinions are on it as he is applying to be an erotica ghost writer. Feel free to leave your thoughts!

L sat crouched in the hotel chair in front of his computer, as he usually did, when his 2:37 AM alarm went off on his phone. He had been awake for some hours now — he was, he understood, what Americans might call a “night owl.” L did not mind the name. In fact, being likened to the owl seemed rather noble to him: a majestic creature, hidden among the trees, silently swooping down to his enemies in the silent dark.

Solitary, too. Like the owl. Hmmm.

As he reached for his sixth cup of coffee that Watari had left him, as his alarm reminded him to do, he heard the closing of one of the hotel doors behind him. He turned and craned his head over the back of his chair to see Light enter the room behind him.

“Ah, Light,” said L, his quiet voice cutting through the velvet night. “You’re up late.”

Light started at L’s voice. L only barely saw the look of shock and fear ripple across his face, but, like every one of Light’s emotions, it passed before he could be sure. That truly makes it difficult to read him, thought L. Always difficult.

That wasn’t to say that L did not mind watching Light’s face. It was a very nice face to look at, with a long jaw, high cheekbones, and smooth skin. And red lips.

Lips. Hmmm. L felt a rush to his cheeks and to his abdomen, and he found himself looking away from Light. His cheeks were far too pale to hide these feelings and he could not risk Light finding out the true reason for L bringing him onto the investigation.

“Ryuzaki, hi,” L heard Light say. “I didn’t think anybody else would be awake right now.”

“I am up late most nights,” said L. “It is the unfortunate side effect of my consternation in this investigation.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Light.

“It is not your fault.” L turned back to his coffee and added his first sugar cube. Well, I suppose it is his fault, assuming he is indeed Kira, he thought, but of course he wouldn’t say that. Light was already aware L suspected him, but he at least wanted to engage in the theater of trusting Light. Constantly scrutinizing Light would only distract them both from the investigation.

But it wasn’t just a theater, not anymore, and L had recently found himself quite distracted. He was almost sure Light was Kira, but, as the days and nights they spent together turned into weeks and months, he found himself wishing for the first time that he was wrong. He added a second sugar cube.

Light’s footsteps were soft, yet L could not help but think they still sounded so confident. Every one of Light’s actions exuded confidence — his decisive theories, his strict morality, how he spoke to his classmates — and the way he walked was no exception. Such confidence would be quite befitting for the man who is Kira, thought L, but that line of thought exhausted him and he ended it quickly. He dropped another sugar cube into his coffee. Tonight, he just wanted to enjoy Light’s company.

For that was the real reason he had brought Light onto the investigation. His deductive skills were excellent, but, for L, it was his company he desired. My first real friend.

“What are you working on right now?” asked Light from behind L’s chair. L felt him set a hand on the back of L’s chair. He was enveloped by Light’s cologne, a light, clean, masculine smell, and he felt that rush again. Another sugar cube.

L’s computer screen was covered in various photos and open documents. “These are, I believe, Kira’s victims in the past day,” answered L. “Four died of heart attacks, and these two, Shuji Takashi and Toshihiro Yoshi, were killed in what would appear to be accidents: Takashi after slipping in the shower of his prison, and Yoshi after choking on the teriyaki chicken served for dinner that night. None of them were on the news today, except for Takashi, who had a short segment on his death on Channel 34’s evening news, so that would imply that Kira had no way of discovering their names.”

L took a sip of his coffee and winced. Too strong still. He added another sugar cube as he continued:

“Well, no way of discovering their names today, that is. I was checking to see if they had been mentioned any time between when Kira’s killing schedule first changed and their deaths. They had indeed: their names were broadcast in several news programs over a week-long period two weeks ago, implying that Kira saw their names and scheduled their deaths for tonight to potentially throw me off. It would also provide evidence for a small theory that I have been developing recently that Kira is no longer able to perform as many killings as he used to be able to. However, he does not want me to know that, so, two weeks ago, he scheduled far more killings than he ordinarily would and dispersed the deaths across the next few weeks.”

L took another sip of his coffee and looked up at Light. Light stared at the computer screen, but all L could see was interest. He is impossible to read.

That did not stop him from tensing when Light’s hand moved from the back of his chair to his shoulder. “This is amazing, Ryuzaki,” said Light, excitement in his voice. “I think you’re onto something. But how do you know Kira isn’t killing as often?”

How do I know Kira isn’t killing as often? thought L. Not if Kira isn’t killing as often. Interesting. “Kira has favored killing on the same day as the broadcast of a criminal’s name. Only rarely has he scheduled killings more than a few days in advance. However, my investigation has noted a substantial decrease in the killings of criminals on the same day their names are broadcasted, yet Kira murders have not decreased overall. So...”

“... Kira must be scheduling the deaths far in advance to not draw attention to his decreased activity,” finished Light. His face broke into a wide grin, and Light’s hand squeezed L’s shoulder. L hoped the light of the computer screen did not reveal how crimson his face felt. “This is incredible! This is the breakthrough we needed! We can go through the news broadcasts from that week-long period and see who Kira is planning to kill next, and that should bring us closer to uncovering Kira’s identity. Fantastic work!”

“Thank you,” L replied softly. He could not look away from Light. He was so close.

Light glanced down, and his joyful grin became a puzzled one. “What’s going on, Ryuzaki? You’re staring at me.”

“It’s nothing,” said L, but he did not turn away.

Light’s smile faded as he held L’s stare. “You think that the evidence fits with your theory that I am Kira, as the broadcasts for the names occurred the week that you brought me on to the investigation and the daily murders have decreased since. If I was Kira, of course the murders would decrease — I would be too busy helping you to kill consistently. The time frame fits.”

Light was correct that that was L’s theory, but that wasn’t what was on L’s mind currently. “There are many other reasons to stare at you, Light,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

Light’s brow furrowed, and his grin hesitantly returned. “Like what?”

L set his coffee on the desk beside his laptop, straightened up in his chair and stood. Even with the chair’s added height, his hunched back left him barely above eye level with Light. They stood like that for a moment, before L said: “You have the most engaging lips I have ever seen.”

And then he kissed him.

L had never kissed anybody before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect, but this was better than he could’ve possibly imagined. Light’s lips were so soft. He closed his eyes and found himself not thinking about the investigation for the first time since it started. He couldn’t even bring himself to think about Light being Kira. None of that mattered. For this blissful moment, none of that mattered.

Light stepped back, breaking the kiss. Shock was written across his face. “What are you-”

But L didn’t let him finish. L reached forward, grabbed Light’s face, and pulled his lips to his again. This time, L felt Light relax, and his hand came up to gently rest on L’s chest. L had no idea how long they stood there, kissing in the velvet darkness, but eventually L broke the kiss. He hopped off of the chair and pushed Light backwards.

“Where are-” Light began to ask, before stumbling and falling backwards into the couch behind him. L jumped on top of him, quickly straddling his chest and bending down to Light’s lips once more. He needed him, needed more, needed all of him all at once and L was quickly losing any sense of control he had. God, he needed those lips, and that neck, and every inch of his skin.

The lips and neck and skin of Kira, thought L, and, for a moment, he froze.

He could feel Light take notice, and now it was Light leading and kissing him, running his hands down him, wanting him. Immediately, the Kira thought was gone, replaced by Light and his lips and and his hands.

L broke the kiss and pulled Light’s face to his neck. As Light’s lips touched his skin, a soft moan escaped him. L could feel Light’s lips part and the heat of his tongue run up the side of his neck. One of L’s hands pushed Light’s face deeper into his neck, and the other gripped the back of his shirt. As he clutched on to him, Light’s hands explored him, traveling up L’s back to the nape of his neck and the other reaching down the waistband of the rear of L’s pants and briefs.

Oh, God. His hands.

L needed to take control back. He adjusted himself on Light’s body to straddle his abdomen, then leaned back and reached behind him to trace the inside of Light’s thighs. At least, that’s what he intended to do; as he leaned back, Light leaned forward. His kiss turned into a bite and L was forced to grab Light’s thigh for stability. Light’s muscles filled L’s palm and he gasped.

Years of tennis had given a thickness to Light’s legs that L had never seen. His original plan for a gentle caress became furtive grips along Light’s thigh, gripping harder with each bite that Light gave his neck. The loud, ragged breaths L drew were embarrassing, but he could not stop, and from the bulge that his hand had grazed over a few times, Light did not seem to mind.

Light’s hand pushed both of L’s waistbands down. This was all so new. L could feel himself becoming light-headed as Light’s hand traced the freshly-bare skin. That trace became a grip, and L’s face contorted into an expression he had only done before while in pain. L realized he was grinding into Light, a desperate rocking against Light’s abdomen. This was good, but it wasn’t enough. Please, Kir- Light. Touch me. Touch me.

“Touch me,” said Light, and L noticed that he wasn’t the only one who had begun thrusting his hips.

It felt like L’s chest was going to break. It was an overwhelming mix of anxiety and ecstasy and excitement and L could barely breathe but oh, how he wanted to touch Light. His hand carefully moved from its position on Light’s thigh to the bulge of his pants. He heard Light draw in a sharp, hissing breath, and any hesitation L had about continuing further vanished.

The zipper was easy, but the button proved to be a different challenge. L’s fingers were trembling too much to push them apart. He heard Light’s soft chuckle as one hand left L’s body, gently pushed aside L’s hand, and undid the button himself. It returned to L’s body, and, desperately, L pushed his hand beneath Light’s boxers.

His warmth was bliss.

L began to move his hand up and down. He was slow, at first, but as Light’s kisses became more sporadic and his breaths turned into moans, he began to speed up. He felt Light’s hand drift from L’s back to his thigh and, finally, above the front of L’s pants. For a moment, L lost his rhythm, a shudder running through his body as Light opened his pants too. And then he was in Light’s hand, and oh God, oh God, this feeling.

The next few minutes were silent save for labored breathing and moans and gasps. L’s mind was completely blank. No more machinations and deductions and trying to end this damn investigation. No; it was just Light, and just him, and just their touch on each other’s bodies, and this building, building sensation inside of him was sending a buzz through his entire body and the entire room felt like it was spinning and unfurling and it was just him, and just Light, and just him, and just Light, and

L finished first, letting out a series of soft cries and shaking beneath Light’s hand. Everything inside him felt like it was exploding, a dazzling rush of endorphins and dopamine that sent his body into convulsions. He was barely aware of the mess he had caused on Light’s shirt before Light, too, cried out, and he felt Light pulsate in his hand and the shock of something hitting the back of his thin shirt. He knew this shirt would be ruined, and that only sent his already-dazed mind to new heights.

Both collapsed backwards, their breaths gasps and, still, gentle moans. It was quiet. It was still just him and Light.

And, for the first time in nighttime hours for as long as L could remember, L closed his eyes and felt the caress of sleep fill his body.

Thank you, Light, L thought as his consciousness faded.

Thank you, Kira.


End file.
